Taijitu World Building > Pre-Modern Era Fiction

A New Religion in Omsarim, 502 BCE

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Omsarim:
Ulara of the family Ramanon awoke at dawn.  He was a twenty-one year old nobleman in the port city of Tyros, greatest of the cities of the Omsari people.  As a member of one of the seventy-four great families of Tyros, he would become a member of the city's council upon the death of his father Narala.    Generally, a young man born as well as Ulara would be attended to by numerous servants.  However, the previous year Ulara had bought a smaller house, and had been living relatively humbly (though by no means impoverished). 

The young man climbed the ladder to the roof of his small house. The sunrise illuminated an awakening city. The trade markets were opening up, and the farmers could be heard bringing in their crops for sale.  It had rained the previous night, but now Vanata the Great Sun banished the clouds and rain, and the sky was clear.  Ulara picked up a small basin within which he had collected the rainwater, and washed his hands and face, then poured the rest of the water upon his head.  As the water drops ran down his body, he shut his eyes and turned toward the sun.  He felt the warm light strike his skin.    The warmth comforted the young Omsar.   He felt that Vanata may finally bring him truth, and end his months of questioning.

Ulara climbed back down, and dried himself off with a towel. He dressed himself in one of the few nice robes he had retained during his humbler living, a robe red through expensive dyes.  Only the members of the seventy-four families could afford such colored cloth, and even then those clothes were reserved for visits to the temple, as expensive as they were. Ulara intended to spend this day in prayer at the Great Temple of Vanata, having already transcribed the tax records as the Council asked. He would not abandon his duties as one of the Literate, even in his crisis of faith.

Ulara walked to the marketplace to purchase some wine.  He noticed that there appeared to be many foreign traders today, no doubt arrivals from the newest ships. Some of them even appeared to be attempting to spread their foreign religions in Tyros!   Ulara held enough faith in Vanata and the other gods to ignore such things.  Upon buying the wine, he proceeded to the temple.

The Temple was the largest building in the entire city, built at the top of the tallest hill.  The main floor of the temple was higher than the roofs of the next tallest building.  Ulara walked up the Steps of Dawn, feeling the sun strike his back.  The sun's rays streamed through the windows, illuminating the building.  The wall and floor were covered in colored tiles, depicting the creation of the world and the banishment of the Dark Ones.    The monks, their bodies painted red and their faces masked, stood in front of the large bronze door to the inner sanctum. Ulara pulled out a medallion, emblazoned with the seal of the family Ramanon, and they opened the door for the son of one of the seventy-four families.

Reflected by mirrors, the sunlight in the inner sanctum struck the statue of Great Vanata. The walls of the sanctum were painted red, as was the floor. Ulara bowed, staring down at the floor, in part due to reverence, in part because the gilded statue reflected the sunlight into his eyes. The statue was simple, a great human-shaped figure.   The figure was well muscled, but the face was blank.   It lacked hair and genitalia as well. Vanata was not like a human, the priests said.   They referred to the Great Sun God as "He" when they needed to, but the Great Song of the Sun told the people that Vanata existed long before life was sundered into male and female.

Ulara poured the wine into the offering basin at the foot of the statue. He saw the red liquid, red like the floor and the walls, fill the brass basin.  He then began to recite the great prayer to Vanata.   "Oh Great Sun, light unto the world, may You forever banish the darkness.  May no night last eternal, may no storm last eternal, may the moon not forever eclipse Your blazing face."   Few in the city who were not in the priesthood had memorized the entire great prayer. The salutations to the Sun itself took seven minutes to recite.  Then came the gratitudes.  "Oh Great Sun, how I thank You for banishing the Darkness beyond the Void.  Oh Great Sun, how I thank you for creating this world.  Vanata, king of the gods, without your great wisdom, surely the land and sky and seas would have long since crumbled."  The entire great prayer took 21 minutes to recite in full.

After he finished the great prayer, Ulara meditated in front of the statue for a half-hour.  Yet the truth had not yet come. Ulara loved Vanata, he was truly grateful for the creation of the world.   He knew that it was by the grace of Vanata and the other gods that the harvest was so bountiful, that Tyros had been spared from any disasters, and that he was a healthy young man who had avoided accident. Yet the priests' detailed descriptions of how to honor the gods contained little about how to live one's life. The Great God Vanata was concerned very much with the sky and sea and land, but not as much with the day to day lives of the people.

Ulara felt guilty questioning his faith in the gods which had given him everything.   He felt driven to banish his doubts.  As he left the temple, dropping several gold coins into the offering box, he wondered how to do so.  Shielding his eyes as he opened the Door of Dawn and walked down the steps.  Perhaps the faith of Vanata and the other gods could not answer everything.  However, surely it was superior to the other faiths of foreign lands.  He would go down to the market, and listen to the foreigners, and discover their faiths.  Surely Vanata would triumph over them.  And if not, then perhaps it was time to turn to a different religion.

Arriving at the marketplace, Ulara noticed even more foreign traders and missionaries in the town square.  This task would be easy.  He walked up to one of the foreigners, to hear what he had to say about the truths of the world.

~~~

OOC/planning Thread: http://forum.taijitu.org/planning-room/choosing-a-religion-%28500-bc%29/

Khem:
  Ma'an N'Joun had been on the seas for more days than he cared to remember. Hearing of the prosperity to be gained from a trip to Tyros, Ma'an had sold the family mine and bought a Junk which he loaded with barrels of goods and crew. Heading for lands unknown and into a new life he had prayed to Ta, Gaea and the Hermetics that the purpose of his journey prove in line with the pattern of all. The first nights past the Kelali Reefs were stormy and rough, as if the voice of Gentu wished to shout them from the sea. When they caught sight of land, sight of the port of Tyros, Ma'an felt tears of joy and exultation stream from his chartreuse as he cried out to Ta.

 "You have shown the way Ta! May your light ever illuminate The Path. I know now this journey was not my own will but that of Hermetica animating! I shall seek the peace of Gaea here as with her body. I will know my place in the pattern. I will see The Path. I know all I choose serves The Path. The Path lives on."

  The sturdy amaranthine ship sliced through the waves with greater capacity than her breadth would suggest. Laden with Khemish goods ranging from medicinal,spiritual,culinary herbs to live Gahk'ell; the Khemish ship was well stocked for trade even with established trade routes. Ma'an dressed in his finest indigo robes fingered the khopesh at his side nervously hoping this turned out better than the stories he heard of Jutensan head hunters and their horrifying death whistles. He looked to his crew, four Da'kavo foolishly branded heretics by the Great Library; a dozen Ser'ev gained from a dead silversmiths estate, bought at a bargain due to the marks left upon them by the devilish former Khem. Eying their desire for the shore all but matched his own he addressed them.

  "Look to port and see desire for ground given footing. Yet the man who wishes to wet himself on local drink or women would be well advised that gaining profit comes before your base needs. We're on a mission from Ta!"

  He let them begin to mumble a bit among themselves before beginning again.

  "HAVE YOU SEEN THE LIGHT?!"

  ...

  "I SAID! HAVE! YOU! SEEN! THE LIGHT?!"

  "Praise the glory of Ta!", they reply.

  "Glory be to he that is the fire in our souls ever driving. May your light shine through all ages..."

  "...and darkness ever be banished by Light, Life and Thought.", they conclude.

 Just then a two terns flew Alite, signalling a good fortune to come. Ma'an smiled to himself taking this as a sign of Ta approving of illuminating the men to the sacred nature of their work. They would not be merely representing their own wallets but presenting holy truth by glorious action. As they pulled into port he took a deep intoxicating whif of unfamiliar spices on the port air. A tern lands to his right as he exhales the exotic perfumes of the new.

Omsarim:
The first foreigner Ulara had listened to denounced the gods of the Omsarin.    He had turned and walked away from that foreigner, marveling that the gods had not destroyed his heathen country.     The market was becoming more crowded.   There were foreigners whose skin was much darker than that of the Omsarin, with black hair.   There were foreigners much paler, as pale as infants even as adults.   Some of these people had hair in browns or blacks, but some had hair the color of pale gold or even flames.    Ulara wondered if any wisdom could be found among these foreign peoples.   He also wondered why the gods would create people of such different appearances.   Why not make all men and women look like the Omsarin, with their tanned skin and normal brown or black hair colors?   Why alter things so much? 

Pondering these questions, Ulara arrived near the edge of the market, nearest to the docks.   He saw a group of foreigners, whose skin did not look so different from that of the Omsarin.    They wore black and white robes, and were setting of barrels filled with their wares.    Hoping to be able to learn something of them before the merchants swarmed the area looking for spices, Ulara approached.   He marveled at the height of the black robed foreigners.   As he approached, he greeted them in Tyrosi Omsari and in the few other languages he knew: "Greetings foreign traders!   I am glad you are here.   What gods protected your journey?"   

As he spoke, he noticed one of the foreigner's strange hair,  patterned unlike any hair he had seen in Tyros or from the other Omsari city-states.    Getting closer, he noticed the bright blues and greens in these foreigners eyes.    Omsari eyes were usually much darker colors.   He waited for the foreigners to respond.

Khem:
  Ma'an opened his arms wide and gave a magnificent bow to the well fashioned youth before him. His practiced mercantile eyes looked for all the signs of where Hermetica took the boys mind. Looking at the existential fever burning within Ularas minds eye he knew this man to be desired truth. He noted the no doubt expensive dyes in the boys clothes as he came up with a flourish. He gestured and an antique khemish pipe appeared in one hand while the other procured holy Kan'na' and a match.

  In broken Tyrosi Omsari he exclaimed, "Have feel pull of pattern today? Do know where flame Ta guides soul? Feel heart sing Gaea song to serene being? Think Hermetica horse-trainer."

Myroria:
"Gods?" came a voice from a covered wagon situated behind an empty table. A man stepped out holding a crate stacked with salted cod. He wore an embroidered deel - a sort of knee-length robe tied in the middle with a wide strip of linen - and a leather brimmed hat on his head, trimmed with beaver fur. His normally-pale skin was tanned a bit after months on the caravan trail, and his dark hair hung in loose curls from his head.

"The Ozian devils worship gods," came another voice, still inside the wagon. Soon after a woman stepped out in a similar outfit, though the embroidery on her deel was smaller, more delicate. The brimmed hat she wore on her head, by contrast, was simpler - made of rawhide leather. She carried a small tray with an array of tiny bottles of spices.

"Who better to protect you after death than those who protected you during life? Your mother, father," she continued. She rest the tray on the table next to the crate of salted cod.

"The spirits of your ancestors will be with you always," the man began. "These gods - Gaea, Eru - they abandon you if you anger them. Your ancestors are your family - they know you, they forgive your mistakes. And if another family decides to attack your person,"

"they'd better get ready to deal with your family in the afterlife." the woman finished. She stepped back in the wagon to get another crate.

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